The life of a cashier: Part I

I am known as the heavy-bagger.  I get so much in the bags that people lift (or just try to lift) the bags and their faces contort and they set them back down and proceed to pack everything much more messily into two bags.   I am such an MK!  Lol, packing and me are old friends.


I hate people who stuff things in bags.  Seriously: ARRANGE!!!  More stuff fits, it will be more easily unpacked later, nothing will get crushed, and it looks nicer!!!


I hate people who stand there and act like I need to do all the work myself.  Yes, I am getting paid to do it all, but just because of that I am not a second-class person.  I am more than fine with checking you out and bagging everything, but if you have several bags worth of stuff it will take some time and don't act like *I* am the one making you late!  The girls with perfect hair and upturned noses are the worst.


I think it is amusing that I usually have no trouble asking people who buy wine/beer for their age, yet other people feel really bad about it, or get people who get mad at having to tell.
I think it is even more amusing when older single guys forget that they bought wine and think I am asking their age for other reasons. (yes, it happened)  He said: "Oh... I thought you were checking me out!" I laughed wryly and said "Well, I *AM* checking you out, but not in THAT way...." *coughcough*   It was a bit strange.


I am getting used to smiling forever and standing.  But I love my breaks.  I sit out on the patio in the warm sunlight and close my eyes and soak it in.  Peace.

I hate it when customers come up to my line and say "Hi, how are you...."  I HATE HATE HATE it!!!!  Maybe it is just my third-world social culture upbringing, but they DON'T CARE that I am tired and that I didn't sleep very well last night, or that I am happy and humming myself a tune from the pop station.  They DON'T CARE, and I feel obligated to say SOMETHING back.  And how I hate murmuring "good" or "fine" or such nonsense because it means nothing.  Asking someone how they are doing should MEAN "I care about you and your welfare and I have not talked with you yet today, or this week, or recently, therefore tell me how life is for you and what God has been doing in you..."
I know, I know.  I am fighting a loosing battle.  There is no way I am going to be able to change the culture here.  But I hate that I myself and falling into it.  I have not yet asked anyone "How are you doing" because I can ask other things like "Did you find everything ok?" or "Are you signed up for our coupon emails?" or "Welcome to _______ (store name)"
I need to get myself calloused enough to just smile or say "hello" or "welcome" when they ask me how I am.  I keep forgetting.  I tell customers that I am tired, or that my feet hurt, or that I want some ice cream, and they must think I am a weird cashier.  Anything other than "good....fine" right?


For as much as I am wary around children, they seem to be attracted to me.  My CSM loves them and stops for every one and talks nicely to them or gives them stickers.  They laugh and the babies coo and the little girls blow him kisses.  I had a little boy spit on me yesterday.
Seriously.
I first met this child as I was walking out to a break.  He jumped in my path, and yelled "Boo" at me.  I laughed, because he looked like my second-littlest bro.  Sandy blonde hair, impish grin, and unable to stay still.
I met him again later as I was helping bag for his mother who was checking out in a different line.  I did not notice him at first, but when she pushed the cart towards me to put the full bags in, there he was.  I pretended not to notice, and then I jumped at him and said "Boo" in a non-threatening way.  His little brother of about 4 was sitting in the seat of the cart and he burst out laughing.  The mother recognized me and smiled.  Then, the 4 year old decided to join in the fun by making animal noises.  After bandying back and forth for a bit (the mother was getting a lot of groceries) he ran out and decided to see how spitting would get me to react.  So he spit!  I was a little shocked, but not entirely surprised, as I have had that happen to me in my previous life.  His mother quickly (very quickly, it must have happened previously) turned to him and scolded him fiercely.  There was a moment of peace, and then the older boy (original "boo" boy) decided to try and he spit on me, only with more force, projectiles and accuracy than the little boy.  I was nearly done bagging, so I turned (while still working, oh yeah I gots me some mad skills) and wagged my finger in his face and told him no strictly.  He seemed a bit shocked, and his mother did too.  But she also told him no.  (He was already sitting in the cart because he was a bad boy)  I then finished putting the last bag in the cart and walked away.

Oh yeah.  Me and kids.  We go way back....